


Some Kind of Resolution

by lilbeefy



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Abuse, M/M, seth rollins is a bad man, sort of? i guess? more of a content warning bc ig that might set some people off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbeefy/pseuds/lilbeefy
Summary: Being the big dog has its drawbacks- the biggest being the lack of time you can spend with your best friend.(aka lets scream our frustrations out in our rental at midnight)





	Some Kind of Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> this is a oneshot i pooped out today bc i really, really dont like this whole dean/seth tag team and how romans completely removed from it. it goes against whats established in canon and his character, and i wrote this to try and help my mind from eating itself out of frustration. i dont like seth btw

Roman paced among the rows of the locker room, letting a hand run through his hair as he tried to calm himself. The fallout from Summerslam had been intense- neither he, Braun, or Joe had managed to knock Brock away from his title. It wasn't so much disappointment in himself that put him on edge- it was a four way, his odds weren't all that great to begin with- it was more-so the fact that out of the 3 of the contenders in the match, none of them were able to rip that title out of Brock's grubby little hands.   
  
    Roman worked full time, year round. He was on the road practically 24/7, busting his ass for this damn company, but some steroid abusing punk can walk in 2 shows a year and keep hold on the biggest title this brand had. He shook his head and snorted.  
  
    If it weren't happening to him, the irony of the situation would be hilarious.  
  
    His eyes drifted over to the shabby little T.V. Set up in the corner of the room- playing back a recap of the last few weeks. Thankfully, his match from a few weeks back didn't show, but a few others did. Styles beating Owens, Natalya pinning Naomi, and-  
  
    He stopped as the next scene played. It was a graphic of Dean and Seth, both holding their titles, hands raised in triumph. Roman blinked in confusion- last time he checked, Dean hated Seth (and rightfully so). But now here they both were, buddy buddy and all smiles as they won a title.  
  
    He stared at the screen in disbelief.  
  
    What the fuck.  
  
    ---  
  
    A metallic rattle caused Dean to almost shoot out of his skin.  
  
    “Seth? You teamed up with Seth?”  
  
    Dean looked at Roman with a blank expression, almost as if he was in the middle of processing what he was trying to say. He finally got to his senses, his gaze shifting up to Roman as he rolled his eyes.  
  
    “Yeah..... It sure was a hard match, but I ended up winning. I'm a grand slam champion now, you know that? Thanks for your well wishes Ro'. I appreciate it.”  
  
    Roman grimaced as Dean rose and started gathering his things.  
  
    “It's not that- good job on getting the title man- It's just. With HIM? I thought you and me had a sort of agreement on not tolerating that ass anymore-”  
  
    Dean turned back to Roman, nostrils flaring. Roman took a step back from his sudden hostility.  
  
    “Yeah, well- if you want to have an agreement with someone, Roman, you need to be around them to keep it up. You can't just expect me to hold up without you there or- or-”  
  
    “What in the fuck are you talking about? We've been on the same brand for how long? I'm not the one who seemed to forget that that shitbird took a chair to my back.”  
  
    Dean snickered under his breath.  
  
    “If I forgot what he did to you Ro', it's only because he put my head through some cinderblocks.”   
  
    Roman's hands balled into fists as he lost what little composure he still had. His voice shook a little bit as he spoke, anger almost dripping off every word.  
  
    “If he did all that to you, then why are you teaming with him? Must not be so dire then if you apparently have enough time to bury the damn hatchet.”  
  
    “I teamed with him because hes here! With me! And not off playing with dogs in a yard or whatever the fuck you've been doing since I got back!”  
  
    “Where I've been? Where I've been? Do you have ANY idea the type of shit I've been put through lately Dean? I main evented Wrestlemania- I've been dealing with Braun and Brock- I just fought for the fucking universal title! In the main event! Again! I'm so, so sorry that I don't have time to play catch up with you-”  
  
    “-Its not that Ro'! I can't- fuck-”  
  
    Dean paused, slamming the door to the locker he'd been using before grabbing his stuff in a messy bundle. His knuckles were white as he turned his back to Roman.  
  
    “If you can't even think about what I've had to deal with for the past two months- He's like a storm, man. He gets you up and you- you got all your shit squared up, right? Like- I think I'm so strong, I think the next time he talks to me, I'm gonna tell him off! I'm gonna do it this time! But then..”  
  
    Dean's voice cracked. Roman could almost swear he heard him sniffle.  
  
    “When he used to do that- back before all this shit got so complicated- I'd go to you. We'd talk, we'd tell each other what we'd do next time, we'd have each others backs. I don't have that anymore.”  
  
    He finally turned back to Roman. His eyes were somewhat wet, as if he'd been seconds away from crying.  
  
    “He came, and I was alone- I didn't have a backbone this time. The worst thing is- I know how this ends. He's gonna get bored or I'll fuck up and he'll get rid of me. I know how that goes. The only difference?”  
  
    His nostrils flared once again.  
  
    “The only guy who can even begin to understand what I'm going through's too busy playing in his yard.”  
  
    Dean shoved his way past Roman, almost running out of the room. Roman looked down at the floor, absolutely disgusted in himself.  
  
      
    He really fucked this up.  
  
    ---  
  
    Dean waited for his car to pull around, backpack stuffed full of clothes slumped over his shoulder. He rode with Seth- which he hated- but refused to room with him. He had his standards- lines that he'd draw in the sand to delude himself into thinking he had some control in this situation. He spotted the black SUV roll around the corner- the license plate matched the one Seth had texted him- and reached, almost robotically, to grab the door.  
  
    “Hey Dean.”   
  
    His attention snapped up to the driver- Not Seth as he originally thought, someone- somehow- even worse. Roman. It took all the willpower he had not to slam the door in his face.  
  
    “What.”  
  
    “Get in. You're riding with me tonight.”  
      
    Dean stood, conflicted for a few seconds, weighing his options as he considered the possibility of an uber or some other taxi before finally biting the bullet. He plopped into the passengers seat and slammed the door.  
  
    “Dean- the fuck! Watch the damn door!”  
  
    “Can the big dog really not afford to fix a fucked up rental door? Thought they'd finally pay you decent Ro'.”  
  
    “It's the principle of the thing man! Rude as shit to do that.”  
  
    “It's also rude as shit to corner me in the locker room and try and talk down to me over my life choices, but who's keeping track anymore.”  
  
    Roman's hands flexed around the wheel, gripping it so hard his knuckles went white. He watched as the lights of the arena faded behind them as they entered a highway, riding in silence for what seemed like ages before Roman finally cleared his throat.  
  
    “Look. That's why I did this. We need to talk.”  
  
    “Think I already said my peace back at the arena.”  
  
    “Well, you haven't heard mine yet. Listen-”  
  
    Roman exhaled hard. It was a sharp noise that punctuated the chaos around them.  
  
    “I haven't been here like I should be. I own that man- everything piled up, everything got so big and so intense- I lost track of what mattered. Everyone...”  
  
    His eyes stuck to the road in front of him as he collected his thoughts.  
  
  
    “Everyone expects me to be the new guy who takes the weight off Cena. They want me to be like him, and they want me to be a “top guy”- whatever the hell that means. They want me to have this whole company on my back.”  
  
    “And that means you can just ditch me? I thought I was your brother.”  
  
    Roman froze as Dean finished. His foot moved from the gas to the break, slamming on it as he pulled off to the side of the back road they were on. He swallowed, hard.  
  
    “I thought- I thought we still were. Brothers.”  
  
    “Brothers don't abandon each other. Brothers don't leave each other in the dust while they get to go main event paperviews. Brothers don't let the guy who fucked them over sneak back into one of their lives and take over.”  
  
    Roman looked over to Dean for the first time sense they left. He made eye contact, looking Dean dead in the eye for the first time that day.  
  
    “I fucked this up, Dean. I fucked it all up and- God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no clue it was that bad-”  
  
    “You not being here is why he crept back in Ro'! He knew you weren't there to chase him away this time!”  
  
    “I know man, I know-”  
  
    “No, you don't! He practically stalked me for a month before I finally gave in! He screamed in my face when I told him I didn't wanna join up again! Like- he plays these mind games, he makes me think I'm the one who fucked up. I don't.. I don't get it.”  
  
    Dean took his head into his hands.  
  
    “I just. I don't get it. Out of all the people he could've picked.. Why me? Why go after me?”  
  
    There was a silence in the car as the two of them reflected. Minutes passed before Roman spoke, his voice even- eerily so- speaking with a sort of finality.  
  
    “He's not gonna do it anymore. I'll make sure of that- this little thing he thinks hes got on you's ending now.”  
  
    “How, Roman? I can't just walk away from the titles- They'd blacklist me if I did that.”  
  
    “You don't have too. I'll be around- I'll start following you two backstage before someone finally notices and makes me apart of whatever the hell it is your doing-”  
  
    “-It's not that simple. He'll know somethings up if you just show up and act like you want to be with us again. He's smarter than that.”  
  
      
    More silence. The two of them stared out into the black around them. This time, it was Dean who spoke up first.  
  
    “Make him think he's in control.”  
  
    “What?”   
  
    “I can say something about the shield- act like it'd be a good idea if we could all get back together or something. Make him think he's the one who thought it up.”  
  
    “So do I just jump at the first offer he gives me or..?”  
  
    “No- You do that and he's gonna sense something's off. Reject it a few times- make him anxious and angry. Make him wait for it.”  
  
    “How long do you think it'll take?”  
  
    Dean was quiet for a moment.  
  
    “I'd say at least a month. Maybe a month n' a half.”  
  
    Roman loaded his schedule up on his phone, checking over the upcoming show dates Raw had scheduled. One in particular caught his eye.  
  
    October 9th, 2017. Indianapolis Indiana.   
  
    He smirked, looking to Dean before passing him his phone.  
  
    If he were Seth right now, he would've been terrified. But as Roman looked to Dean- saw the satisfaction on his face as he got the same idea he did- the only feeling that came to mind was gratification.


End file.
